Logic Versus Magic
by mandaree1
Summary: Velma Dinkley has always been a woman of logic. Angie Dinkley has always been a person who believed in the supernatural. But now their two worlds are colliding, and Velma is having a hard time coping.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Scooby Doo, Scooby Doo Mystery Incorporated, or any other form of Scooby Doo.**

**Title: Logic Versus Magic**

**Summary: Velma Dinkley has always been a woman of logic. Angie Dinkley has always been a person who believed in the supernatural. But now their two worlds are colliding, and Velma is having a hard time coping.**

**Author's Note: This is set around the episode "Dark Night Of The Hunters", before time is reset.**

**Warnings: Possible spoilers.**

**...**

Angie had known that her daughter was different from most from the day that, in the middle of a tour, she had scoffed, shaken her head, and walked away muttering, "Mom, none of what you're saying makes sense."

It was on that very day, curled up in the mystery section of the library, that Velma ran into her group of friends for the first time, each searching for the mysteries that they all craved to solve, and they formed their group of mystery solvers.

For the longest time she'd believed it was pretend, that they would eventually grow out of it and learn to appreciate the unknown instead of sticking their noses into it. Later on, she realized far too late just how wrong she was.

It tore her apart, on so many levels, to see the pain they went through for their troubles. She cared for all of Mystery Incorporated as though they were her own children (and, in a way, they were- she was the only semi-responsible adult in their lives, it seemed), and seeing them be tossed aside so frequently by the people of Crystal Cove, only for them to struggle to their feet just to repeat the process over and over again, made her heart ache.

She'd tried to make them believe, to show them the world they denied, but it was no use. They were all logical thinkers where it counted, her daughter especially.

She knew that one day, someday, they would tug on the face of a monster and realize a moment too late that it wasn't a mask. Angie feared for that day more than she feared losing her daughter completely, but she trusted that they were smart enough and quick enough thinkers to get out of the way mostly unharmed.

At least, that's what she hoped would happen.

* * *

><p>Dinners in the Dinkley home were a nightmare to say the least.<p>

It wasn't that big of a problem to clear off the table or cook dinner. Velma had no problem with setting the table and doing the dishes. She even bookmarked whatever book she was reading and stored it away, and she did the same with any talismans or magic books noticeably floating around the kitchen, minus one or two. (Even Velma could appreciate a talisman said to give wisdom or strength, even if she didn't believe in them. Or maybe she was just pleasing her and ignoring them. At this point, Angie honestly didn't care.)

It was dinner that was the problem. Those odd nights they were utterly alone for the night with no one to fall back on for conversation, the awkward silence as they picked at their food, unsure of what to say to each other.

Velma liked solving mysteries. Angie appreciated the what-ifs and the no-one-will-never-knows. Velma was logical. Angie wasn't. They honestly had no common ground they could talk on.

"Any new mysteries, dear?" She coughed, fiddling with her necklace.

Velma glanced up from her meal. Her daughter had the habit of never looking anyone older than her in the eye, and while it seemed like she was looking her dead in the eye, Angie noticed her gaze twitch almost imperceptibly to the talisman beside her head. Velma stared at the wall a second before looking back at her food, stirring the herbal soup with her spoon.

"Something like that."

A pang of hurt struck her chest. Velma never talked about the mysteries she worked on in-depth with her, even though they were some of her favorite subjects.

Instead of voicing her hurt, she nodded and smiled. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds... interesting. A big one, I'm guessing."

"Something like that."

And that was it. Prying never helped, so she let the subject lie and turned back to her soup.

Dinners in the Dinkley home were awkward. Far more awkward than they should be.

* * *

><p>No matter how much the people of Crystal Cove complained, the kids of Mystery Incorporated were mostly allowed to run free. Unless there was a call from the sheriff, or something to that degree, their parents left them be without so much as a second glance.<p>

The parents of Mystery Incorporated had, for the most part, given up on them like everyone else.

At least, that was how Velma had put it one night, flipping through the channels on the TV during their weekly TV night, colors and pictures reflecting off her glasses.

"They feed them, clothe them, and love them like normal parents should." She'd said. "They just don't like us."

The 'us' was deliberate. Angie could tell from the hurt that flashed through her eyes.

With such rights given, they had the habit of crowding into the Dinkley home for sleepovers and/or dinner in their free time. Angie didn't particularly mind, they'd been doing it since they were children, and they were rather polite to her and her husband (as far as teenagers went, at least), so she let them sleep on the couch and floor or use her computer to look for clues when Velma's laptop was charging.

"Anyone hungry?" She poked her head in through the cracked door. "I'm thinking about starting dinner."

There was a mad dash of grabbing hands as the floor was snatched clean and items were shoved into bags or hidden behind backs. Velma smiled widely, falsely, and nodded. "Famished."

"Like, you know us, Mrs. Dinkley. Me and Scoob are always ready to eat."

"Yeah!"

Daphne and Fred nodded enthusiastically in consent. Angie blinked at the clean floor a second longer. "Alright then, I'll go get started."

The roomed seemed to unwind as she turned and walked away, the tension whooshing past her ears and out the windows and doors. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Velma sigh in relief and flop back against the couch. A round of nervous chuckles at their behavior followed her down the hall.

Well, at least they were tidy when they plotted ways to slowly destroy the tourism in Crystal Cove. Or maybe they were planning another way to conquer the world. They all used to do that when they were younger, and Velma had some rather intricate battle plans stored in the top shelf of her closet.

There was nothing wrong with having strange kids, she reminded herself. Strange kids were the ones who made it into the history books.

She vaguely wondered if the extra-strange kids were the ones who crafted the history books in the first place.

* * *

><p>Her daughter had very little self-esteem.<p>

The moment she realized, when Velma held up an old photo of herself when she was her age and said "What do you mean pretty? You look just like me." made her heart break.

The people of Crystal Cove hadn't broken their spirits, but they had broken their self-esteem.

Velma practically oozed self-confidence. They all did. It was probably the reason why Angie hadn't noticed the astounding lack of esteem before.

Velma looked in the mirror and saw a scientist. Someone who relied on logic and solved mysteries. She saw her job, her passions.

It wasn't until that moment that Angie realized that Velma saw everything in herself except for the teenager she herself saw.

* * *

><p>The heart of the jaguar. A mystical spear they needed to save the world from a demonic extraterrestrial that had tried to manipulate mystery-solvers past to open its tomb.<p>

At first, Angie had honestly expected them to be joking. An early April Fools. The things they were saying were things that no logical thinker would ever believe, things she never expected to hear from their mouths even in jest.

But their eyes had that spark. That gleam that told her that they were telling the truth and were terrified by what they were saying. They had months, possibly years worth of research spread out in front of her, clues that slowly but surely pointed them to an evil entity that wasn't the least bit human.

It also explained how Scooby could speak English. Angie had always wondered about that.

She waited for the facts or the sarcastic remark she normally expected from her daughter, but Velma hardly spoke as she phoned in her friend Enrique to begin the search. Looking into her father's green eyes, she found, buried deep behind fear and uncertainty, the same spark her friends had.

She almost dropped her phone in shock. Velma looked away.

After hanging up with Enrique and slowly hustling her friends out the door, Angie turned and hugged her tight.

Her daughter was beginning to _believe_.

Somehow, Angie had always thought that the knowledge she was right would make her feel better than this.

"Oh, Velma."

Velma tensed in her arms, but didn't push her away. "I don't believe in this stuff, Mom." She told her as she pulled away, looking far more fragile than Angie had even remembered seeing her. "It's not logical."

It was only a matter of time now, and they both knew it.

* * *

><p>"Velma, dear, are you alright?" Angie hesitantly pushed the door open. "It's almost time to go."<p>

"I know. I'm all packed, don't worry." She patted her suitcase. "I'm just thinking."

"You're always thinking." She reminded the girl as she stepped inside, carefully shutting the door behind her.

Velma shrugged absentmindedly. "Force of habit."

Angie swallowed a laugh as she sat down on the bed beside her. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything's wrong."

"Velma."

Velma turned to and looked her in the eye a mere second before her gaze trailed back down to her suitcase. She fiddled with the zipper on the side. "It's been manipulating us our entire lives."

"So you've said, dear. I always thought it was the government and/or the aliens, but..." She trailed off once she remembered that Velma wasn't interested in mostly fictional conspiracy theories, especially at a time like this.

Velma's frown deepened, but otherwise nothing changed. "What if... what if everything's a lie?"

She felt tempted to answer with the traditional, oldy-but-a-goody, _everything **is** a lie_, but Angie swallowed the urge. "What might be a lie?"

"Everything. Us. The gang. What if... what if, after we've finally solved this big mystery, we realize we weren't meant to be?"

Velma looked her in the eye, but this time she didn't glance away. The spark was still there, just a tiny bit larger than before, growing little by little, but logic was fighting it every step of the way.

"Oh, honey, you've all been friends since you were little-"

"And from what Nova said, we were destined to be manipulated far before that." She sighed and buried her head into Angie's shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. "I already lost them once."

"I know."

"I can't stand to lose them again, mom. I... I went... _downhill_ after they left, did some stupid things, made some stupid choices. I've only recently climbed the rest of the way back up the hill. I know it's stupid, but... I don't want to go tumbling back down again. Alone."

"I... I hope things don't turn out that way." For once, Angie has nothing to say. She isn't even sure what her daughter was alluding too, but it obviously wasn't something good. No theory or talisman or magic book could help her daughter now. Not even her best herbal solutions could fix this kind of hurt.

"Yeah, me too."

Angie sees things through her daughters perspective for a second, then wonders how and when she got to be so grown up and pulls her closer.

Magic will win. It always does. But, when it does win, what will happen to her daughter? Her entire world will be blown apart, the very foundations she's always stood on crumbling beneath her feet. What will happen then?

For once, what-ifs and no-one-will-never-knows just aren't as appealing as they normally are.

**Author's Note: And, yes, for those wondering, 'going downhill' is Velma's way of saying 'I went to work for the bad guy and almost lost the trust of my friends.' =)**

**No flames! Don't like don't read! Review!**


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